The Black Rainbow
by Bailation
Summary: While pregnant with their second child, Ron and Hermione receive news that Harry and Ginny have been found dead. As godparents, Ron and Hermione are expected to raise their three orphaned children, along with their own daughter and unborn child.
1. The Breaking

The owl arrived early on a Saturday morning, before any of them were even awake.

Hermione woke around seven, the infant inside her having woken her up. She walked slowly downstairs and was the first to see the letter lying on the counter. It was addressed to both her and Ron, so she decided to wait until he woke to open it.

An hour later, Ron wandered into the kitchen with their daughter in his arms. Hermione, who had already ate breakfast, told him about the letter and he agreed they should open it together.

She ripped open the letter and read the carefully swirled writing while Ron read over her shoulder. As they got farther down the page, Hermione felt her heart jump to her throat as she collapsed to her knees onto the floor:

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,_

_It is my deepest regret to be the bearer of such terrible news. This morning, at approximately 4:30 am, the bodies of Harry and Ginevra Potter were found in an abandoned alley on the outskirts of London. The bodies showed no sign of any kind of muggle form of killing (stabbed, shot, etc.) therefore, we detect they were killed magically, but the bodies are currently being further examined. _

_It pains me the most to report these deaths to you because I know how utterly close you were to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. There is no doubt in my mind that they both will be sorely missed by the entire wizarding world._

_Regarding their children, they have named the both of you godparents, as you already know. The Ministry requires your attendance in the Auror Department at two o' clock today to discuss further plans. _

_Again, my greatest remorse goes out to your family. _

_With infinite sympathy,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

_Minister for Magic_

The parchment was crumpled by the time the two were done reading; Hermione's hands were shaking so badly that the letter was in danger of tearing. She sat on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably while Ron, who clutched Rose as well as his wife, cried with his arms around her, his tears leaking into her hair. Rose was only two, but she seemed to sense something was wrong. She stared at her parents with tearless eyes, but she looked scared rather than upset.

Incomprehensible thoughts surged through Hermione's head, leaving her confused and unable to understand anything. How had this happened? Who on earth would go after Harry and Ginny, especially after Harry's triumph over Voldemort? Who would be stupid enough to take on the Boy Who Lived?

These awful thoughts lead to angry thoughts: rage toward Harry and Ginny. The nerve of the two for being so _careless! _What were they doing out in the outskirts of London in the middle of the night? Did they have no common sense at all?

Hermione's moods were switching like colors in a kaleidoscope. She suddenly felt a rush of sadness and pity for her best friends' children. James, Al, and Lily must be heartbroken, even more so than she was. And now, she and Ron would have to raise them, along with Rose, and the unborn child growing inside her at the very moment…

Hermione didn't remember the rest of the day very well, she only vaguely recalled walking into the Auror Department with Ron and Rose, as if floating, and seeing the rest of the Weasley family already sitting around a huge table, sharing a mixture of emotions that matched hers exactly: distressed, hysterical, solemn, and utterly grave.


	2. The Grief

"The wills of Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter."

Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice boomed throughout the long, rectangular room, echoing through Ron's head. At the sound of the names of his sister and best friend, tears began to form in his eyes for the infinite time that day. He hardly heard what was happening; most of the things Kingsley was listing were personal possessions that Harry and Ginny had decided to give away to various people in the family.

Hermione sat next to him on his right, tears pouring down her face as she reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers. Rose sat on his lap, still oddly calm. He knew she didn't know exactly what was going on, but he also knew she felt the bad vibes from the people around her. Ten-year-old Teddy sat on his left, his hair having turned black from the grief. Harry had grown very close to his godson, determined to be as good as a godfather as Sirius. Teddy was always welcome at the Potter home, and was treated like another son.

The rest of the people at the table after Teddy consisted of Andromeda, Bill and Fleur and their three children (Victoire, Dominique, and Louis), Charlie, Percy and Audrey and their daughters Molly and Lucy; and George and Angelina and their children, Fred and Roxanne. Harry and Ginny's three children had been at the Burrow when their parents' bodies had been found. Now, they sat at the head of the table with Molly and Arthur, all with misery etched across their faces.

Four-year-old James, who was usually loud and boisterous, now sat with his eyes to his lap, his jet-black hair that reminded his family so much of Harry hung over his eyes. Two-year-old Albus sat next to his brother, looking around at his grief-stricken family with huge, green eyes. The youngest, four-month-old Lily was in Molly's arms, completely oblivious to the situation around her.

"'…for Teddy Remus Lupin, we leave the Marauder's Map, in hopes he will use it wisely when he enters Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'" Kingsley was giving away the last of Harry and Ginny's possessions to their new owners when Ron was shaken from his own thoughts at the sound of his own name.

"'For Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger Weasley, we leave the custody of our three children: James Sirius, Albus Severus and Lily Luna, knowing they will provide for them with all the morals and requirements needed to raise a child.'"

Next to him, Hermione burst into more tears; her heartbroken sobs the only sound in the room. Ron handed Rose off to Fleur and grabbed Hermione by the waist, leading his wife out of the room without saying anything. No one tried to stop them.

Outside the room, Ron pulled them into a vacant hallway and performed a Silencing Charm around the surrounding area. He grabbed Hermione and pulled her into a tight embrace, moving his arms so they gripped her waist and shoulders. She cried harder, desperately clinging to him as he was to her. The sound of her sobs made his heart break, and new tears he had been holding back begin to pour down his freckled face. He hugged her tighter, feeling like they would soon melt together into a sobbing mess.

Eventually, he pulled apart from her enough to take her face in his hands and wipe her tears away with his thumbs. "Hermione, listen to me." She looked into his eyes; her own filled with grief and pain. "We have to pull ourselves together. We now have five kids to raise" – Hermione stifled a sob behind her hand – "and we're not going to be able to do it if we're in this kind of state." She nodded silently and fell into his arms again, but this time, she struggled to hold in her sobs.

They both returned to the room calmer and more collected than they had the first time. Hermione took her daughter from Fleur and embraced the toddler, kissing her forehead. They both sat down and Ron took his wife's hand once again, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it slowly.

The meeting ended not long after their return, but Ron didn't hear much of it. Being the godparents, technically they had to immediately take full custody of the three children. However, after the meeting, Molly came up to Ron and Hermione and told them the Potter children could stay at the Burrow for as long as it took them to get everything in order for the three extra children.

"You have to have time to grieve!" she exclaimed, her voice rather higher than usual, a tear-stained handkerchief in her fist. Her face was damp from crying for the last eight hours, much like the rest of the Weasley family. "It's completely unfair that this is put on your shoulders, and at the worst time!" She eyed Hermione's bulging belly, and Ron noticed that his wife was tearing up again. His mother turned back to him and continued. "No dears, you take your time preparing for them and take time for _yourselves_, and we'll take care of them for right now."

"Molly, are you sure?" asked Hermione, concern etched across her face.

"Of course, dear!" she said, as if she couldn't believe Hermione asked. "You need it, you can't handle three children right after…what's happened." Her eyes filled with tears, but she dabbed them away with the handkerchief before they could fall.

"Alright, but we'll try to take them off your hands as soon as possible –"

"It's no problem, dear!" She kissed both Ron and Hermione on the cheek as she and Arthur gathered James, Albus and Lily and left the room to Floo home.

Ron and Hermione said goodbye to the rest of the Weasleys and left for their home in Ottery St. Catchpole.

That night, after putting Rose to bed, Ron walked into his bedroom and found Hermione lying on their bed, staring at a picture of her, Ron, Harry and Ginny at last year's Christmas party on the bedside table. As he got closer, he could hear her sobbing heavily.

He lay down next to his wife and wrapped his arms around her, embracing her as if trying to absorb the tears out of her body. He allowed her to cry, and her sadness began to cause him to tear up as well. He said nothing, knowing that there was nothing to say.

All the memories of Harry and Ginny were suddenly flashing through his mind. He recalled his earliest memory with Ginny, when she was three and he was four. It was her first encounter with magic, and she had caused four of the Burrow's chickens to fly, which had attacked Ron while he was on his toy broomstick. He remembered all the times he had arguments with his sister, and every time they had an understanding, usually because they were both the youngest out of the Weasley children. The memory of him and Ginny yelling at each other the time he and Harry had found her snogging Dean Thomas flickered in his mind. He smiled slightly at these memories, willing himself to hold onto every memory of his sister, and wishing he could remember every single encounter he had ever had with his sister.

He had now lost two siblings to Death, both at such young ages. Fred may have been annoying at times, especially when he and George had teased Ron through childhood and their Hogwarts years, particularly about him getting together with Hermione. But Fred's death had been a huge blow, the end of the war emphasizing his family's grief.

Ginny had been just as important to Ron. She was his only sister, and many times through his childhood, she was his only friend. While their brothers went off to Hogwarts, Ron and Ginny were the only Weasley children left at the Burrow, and they slowly grew into close friends.

Ron wiped the tears from his face, squeezing Hermione tighter. Thinking of friends made Harry's face come to his mind.

Memories were flashing through his mind at the speed of light. He saw him and Harry in first year, working together to rescue Hermione from the troll in the bathroom. He was twelve, and Harry stood in front of him, facing the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in the girl's bathroom. His thirteen-year-old self lay in bed in the hospital wing with a broken leg with Harry in the bed next with him, checked in with a few minor injuries after his encounter with Pettigrew. He was in fourth year at the Yule Ball, sitting off to the side of the dance floor with Harry and glowering with envy at Hermione and Viktor Krum. He was fifteen, and he was on the Quidditch Pitch with Harry, where he was about to try out for the Gryffindor team. He was in his last year at Hogwarts, and Harry sat next to him in Potions, reading the notes the Half-Blood Prince had written in the margins of his textbook as he mixed together a perfect potion.

The last memory Ron had that passed through his brain was the biggest mistake of his life. He saw himself and Harry yelling at each other in a tent in the middle of the woods, and Hermione in between them, desperately trying to keep the peace. He remembered turning his back on his best friends and Disapparating. He had envied Harry for his fame since the day he met him, but in the end, he learned that Harry would trade his fame for his best friend's life any day.

Tears poured down Ron's face, his mind pulling back to reality. He held Hermione closer to him, and he felt her shudder as her body shook with sobs. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

She turned toward him, which was hard with her large belly. Her red-rimmed brown eyes met his, and he saw confusion. "What?"

"I'm sorry I left, Hermione!" he said, now sobbing at the remembrance of his stupid mistake. "I had no right to leave you and Harry alone like I did, I'm such an idiot!" He now was openly crying about so many different things. The regret he had instantly after leaving, the fact that he spent most of his youth envying his best friend while he should have been cherishing their friendship, because now he couldn't fix it.

Hermione's brow creased as tears began to form in her eyes once more. She embraced her husband as he sobbed uncontrollably, stroking his hair and kissing every part of his face.

"I'm such a git, Hermione," Ron whispered over her shoulder. She looked into his eyes, searching for the source of his horribly low self-confidence. "I've always been so jealous of him, and now I can't even apologize for being such a moron."

Hermione shook her head, holding his face in both her hands. "Listen to me, Ron. Ron, listen!" she exclaimed when he continued his rambling. He looked at her and shut his mouth.

"You were his best friend," she told him. "Yes, you were jealous of him, and you made some mistakes, but you made up for them. You redeemed yourself during the war, and you still do, even today. You came back, Ron, and believe me; Harry forgave you for your mistakes far before I did." She stroked back his hair and kissed his forehead. "Harry still loved you after everything, Ron. That's how strong your friendship was."

Ron sighed, knowing full well that she was absolutely right. He sighed but said nothing. He kissed her forehead and hugged her more closely. "It's not fair."

There was a long pause. "I know," said Hermione, wrapping both her arms around his waist.

They didn't fall asleep easily that night. Dozens of thoughts swirled through their heads, all of them regarding the deaths of their friends, the Potter children, and the future of their own lives.


	3. The Lost

When the news of Harry and Ginny Weasley's deaths leaked to the media, a huge black cloud of depression erupted over the wizarding world. The witches and wizards who had been so grateful for Harry Potter's victory over Voldemort were crushed upon hearing that he had been vanquished by an unknown source.

Every newspaper had the story on their front page, and paparazzi suddenly swarmed daily around their family's homes, knocking on the doors and flashing their cameras in the windows, trying to get a glimpse of the mourning people inside. Ron and Hermione couldn't get to Shell Cottage, the Burrow, their home in Ottery St. Catchpole, or even Number Twelve Grimmauld Place without being bombarded by the obnoxious reporters. Finally, Ron marched out into their front yard and threatened the crowd with a few sparks from his wand, shouting at them to leave them alone or he would contact back-up Aurors. This caused the reporters to scatter, but only for the day.

Inside the house, however, a very different aura surrounded the Weasley family.

Upon returning to their home after the meeting with Kingley at the Ministry, Hermione had retreated to their bedroom and shut herself away for the rest of the night. Ron didn't bother her, knowing that she wasn't seeking for comfort. He made dinner for himself and Rose, put his daughter to bed, and lay down next to his wife, who had clearly cried herself to sleep, given the tear tracks on her cheeks. He sighed, kissed her on the forehead, and wrapped an arm around her waist, his hand eventually lingering over her belly where he felt his unborn child lightly kick.

Now, it was a week after Harry and Ginny's deaths. Within that time, Hermione had spent a lot of time sleeping, much more than a normal human being. At first, Ron checked on her frequently to make sure she hadn't fallen into some sort of coma. After a while, however, he knew she had fallen into a deep depression, much like he had.

Ron, however, turned to firewhisky for his form of coping. He knew it wasn't best for his family when he spent most of his time less than sober, but he couldn't help himself. As he had grown into adulthood, drink had become the answer to his problems.

This left Rose to herself the majority of the time. She didn't get the attention from her parents that was necessary, and Ron and Hermione both knew it. Ron felt ashamed that he was ignoring the one person he needed to care for the most, but he could hardly pull himself out of the black hole he had fallen into to give Rose the attention she needed.

At the moment, Hermione was asleep at seven-thirty in the evening after giving Rose her dinner and putting her to bed. Ron was downstairs, numbing the memories of his sister and his best friend with a glass of firewhisky.

A sudden noise that sounded like wind blowing through a pipe echoed throughout the living room, coming from the fireplace. Ron raised his head from the kitchen table and saw his mother stepping out of the flames and onto the hearth, a slight frown on her face and her hands on her hips.

Ron raised an eyebrow, wondering why on earth she could be here. To be honest, he didn't really care. "Hi?"

"Hello," she said briskly, her tone biting and obviously aggravated, but she kept her voice steady and calm. She walked over to the abandoned laundry basket on the couch and waved her wand at the clothes inside, causing them to begin to fold themselves.

"The funeral is tomorrow," she said blankly, "as you already know, and I would appreciate it if you could be somewhat sober for the ceremony."

Ron said nothing for a moment, only looking at the bottom of his empty glass. "Why are you here Mum?"

The clothes fell to the ground mid-fold as Mrs. Weasley's wand fell to her side, and she spun around to face her son. "I am here, Ronald, because everyone in the family has been trying to contact this home and has gotten _nothing_! Where's Hermione?"

"Upstairs, sleeping. That's all she's been doing, really –"

"Then you need to get her out of that phase and back into her normal life!" she was pointing an accusing finger at him, as if it was his fault Hermione was sleeping too much. "And where is your child?"

"Why is it _your_ concern where _my_ daughter is?" Ron fired back, now getting angry. He regretted saying it, because his mother instantly looked scandalized.

"Because she is my GRANDDAUGHTER!" Mrs. Weasley exploded. "And right now, I seem to be more concerned about her than you are, so WHERE IS SHE?"

Ron glared at her, deeply offended that she had said she cared about Rose more than him. He spat out at her, "Upstairs, sleeping! Hermione fed her and put her to bed just half an hour ago! She's being taken care of! ARE YOU HAPPY?"

His mother only turned her back and strode upstairs.

"Where are you going?" Ron yelled after her. She didn't answer, so he turned away from the staircase and poured another glass of firewhisky, furiously taking a deep swig. His mother returned only a moment later with a sleeping Rose in her arms.

Ron froze at the sight. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm taking her. You obviously are in no fit state to care for a child, and Hermione isn't much better! If you show up drunk to the funeral tomorrow, I swear, Ron, I will take her from you forever." She seemed deadly serious.

"What do you want from me?" bellowed Ron angrily. "My sister and my best mate have just _died! _I'm trying to deal with this, as well as the idea of having three extra kids I didn't plan for!"

"Then you find another way to cope!" she shot back. "Drinking yourself to death is only going to cause more stress on this family; we don't need another funeral to arrange! In fact –" She waved her wand at the glass in his hand and it slipped from his grasp. She caught it one-handed, the liquid inside sloshing slightly. "You are not to influence this child because of your stupid decisions! I'm serious, Ron! Get yourself and your wife out of this funk you've dropped into and fix your lives or I will! Because in case you don't recall –" she stepped closer to him, gripping her granddaughter tighter - "you have four children besides this one that you will soon have to look after, and they can't be raised in a stable home if their two caretakers are dead to the world!"

She sighed and looked down at the ground. "I wish I could take your unborn child as well, but that appears to be out of my hands." Her facial expression hardened more and she gripped Rose more tightly.

Ron glared at her, feeling quite offended that his own mother would doubt his abilities as a father, but his expression softened when he looked at his daughter. He reached out to stroke her hair, but his hand stopped as it hovered above her head. He dropped his hand and met his mother's eyes, which were still ignited with fire.

"Mum," he pleaded, "Please –"

She stepped back from him and raised a hand to him, stopping him from saying any more. "You can have her back tomorrow if you can show up to the funeral semi-put together. I'm not asking you to become completely healed overnight, because none of us are. What I am asking of you is to look like you've actually joined the real world again, and to be _sober_. Can you promise me that?"

Ron glared at her, but he felt like it appeared to be more of a defeated look. He slowly nodded.

She looked satisfied and turned her back, making her way to the fireplace. He stood in one place for a moment more, then burst out:

"Mum!"

She turned and Ron took the few strides he could to approach his mother. His eyes were on his daughter, and he slowly stroked her vivid red hair back and gently kissed her forehead. He smiled slightly at her and he could have sworn he saw his mother give him a tender look out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I know I've been a prat, and I haven't even bothered to check on Hermione's state –"

"It's alright," his mother cut across his babbling, and looked at him with slightly less reproach. "Just prove to us that you have the ability to take care of all these children, alright?" She hesitated, then kissed his cheek, patting it like she used to when he was little. She turned and tossed some Floo powder into the fireplace, stepping inside, and disappearing with Rose.

Ron stood rooted to the spot, staring at the spot where his mother and daughter had disappeared. Finally he collapsed to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to believe the reality of the situation he was in.


	4. The Agreement

As it happens, Hermione completely forgot about the funeral, and it wasn't until Ron woke her the next morning did she remember that she had to face and acknowledge her best friend's deaths.

Harry and Ginny had decided that if they died at the same time, they wanted only one funeral. Hermione silently thanked them for that decision; she wasn't sure if she could handle to attend two ceremonies for each of them.

Ron had been drinking a lot for the last week, and each morning he would wake with a hangover. Today, however, he looked perfectly sober as she watched him rush around the room, already putting on his black dress robes. She, however, had trouble finding the will to get out of bed due to her depression and fatigue. For the first time in their lives, Ron was the more composed out of the two, and she was the one who was falling apart.

Tears started to well in her eyes as she thought about Harry and Ginny once more. She wondered how Ron was able to pull himself out of the dark hole they seemed to have fallen into. Something about him had changed, and she was sure something had inspired him to create this new Ron.

It took all her willpower to roll out of bed and pull herself together long enough to get dressed. She was able to fit the black dress that she had bought only a few weeks ago around her growing baby bump. She had bought it so she had a larger dress on hand for a special occasion; perhaps if she went out to dinner with Ron. She never imagined she would be wearing it to her best friends' funeral.

As she left the room, she announced to Ron quietly, "I'm going to wake Rose, get her ready –"

"You won't find her."

Ron's voice came sudden and sharp, so Hermione turned slowly and cautiously to face him. "What?" her voice sounded like she hadn't used it in years.

"My mother stopped by last night, when you were asleep," he started, sounding like he was struggling to keep his voice steady. "She took Rose to the Burrow for the night."

"Why?"

Ron's fingers were fumbling with his tie, so Hermione approached him and began to knot it for him. Her eyes met his, and she saw tears forming in the blue irises.

"Ron, what –?"

"We're falling apart, Hermione!" he burst out, and she stepped back from him, his tie half done. "Mum came by and set me straight; she said that if we didn't get ourselves out of this – depression or whatever – she's going to take Rose!"

Hermione stared at him, her eyes wide. "She can't do that…"

"She can," said Ron simply, tears falling down his face as he hastily wiped them away. "She can and she will. She threatened to take James, Al, and Lily too. She doesn't think we're fit parents."

"Our friends have just died! It's only been a week! What does she expect us –?"

"That's what I said," Ron told her. "But she…er….mostly yelled at me on that part. She said I've been doing too much drinking, and that it wasn't the answer to coping with grief. I – I reckon she's right."

Hermione suddenly understood. She immediately felt completely guilty about her recent behavior. She had been ignoring her daughter, along with the rest of her family who had been trying to contact her, and she knew Ron had been doing the same.

"What's wrong with us, Ron?" She whispered. Her husband shook his head, brushing the tears from his face. "Mum said that if I show up drunk to the funeral, she's taking Rose. That's why I couldn't even afford to wake up with a hangover. I threw out all the alcohol in the house."

At this, Hermione smiled through her tears. "All of it?"

"Yeah, I reckon you wouldn't mind, you don't drink much. I thought it would be for the best so I don't have any temptations. After Mum talked to me, I reckoned we shouldn't be raising children in that kind of environment anyway."

Hermione put a hand over her mouth in pride. Usually, she would never believe that Ron would get rid of his precious firewhisky; Molly must've said something that had really gotten his head out the clouds. "I couldn't agree more."

Ron smiled slightly at her and kissed her forehead. "We need to go; the funeral is at eleven." She nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes before grabbing onto Ron's arm and Disapparating to Godric's Hollow where the funeral was taking place.

The gathering before the ceremony was a blur. She saw many people she knew and loved, most of them falling apart at the seams. Though Ron usually was the weaker one out of the two of them in times like these, he kept himself together for her, because they both knew she was on the verge of losing it.

The perimeter of the funeral was completely surrounded by security Aurors, due to the paparazzi who wanted to get a story on Harry Potter's funeral. Only family and friends were allowed in, and invitations had to be shown at the door. The Weasleys wanted the funeral to be a rather private event, and they knew the wizarding world would be gathering around the Potters' graves as soon as the funeral was over.

The aura of the funeral was completely distressful. No one was making conversation; they all were simply supporting each other and they cried on each other's shoulders. It reminded Hermione of the end of the last battle at Hogwarts nearly ten years ago. It only brought back more painful memories.

Her environment finally became clear when she saw her daughter in the backyard, holding Molly's hand. She suddenly saw no one but Rose.

Her daughter turned and her eyes lit up. "Mummy!" She ran into her mother's arms and Hermione hugged her tightly and stroked her hair.

"Grandma Weasley said I had to sleep over at the Burrow," said Rose. "Why?"

"We just had to take care of a few things, Rosie," Hermione told her. She met Molly's eye, who was studying both her son and his wife. With a small nod, she seemed to have approved their behavior. Hermione sighed in relief as Ron lifted his daughter up with one arm while allowing his wife to take his other.

They soon started to slowly converse with the people around them. Hermione looked around while Ron was comforting his sobbing mother and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt, wearing a set of jet black robes and holding a goblet of brandy.

"I'm going to go talk to Kingsley, alright?" Her voice sounded hollow and Ron nodded with tears falling down his face.

"Kingsley?"

He turned around and bowed slightly upon seeing her. "Mrs. Weasley."

She opened her mouth, but she found she couldn't find a way to put her thoughts into words. "I-I just…What I wanted to say was…"

"You want to know what we're going to do to find out who killed Harry and Ginny Potter?"

Hermione nodded silently, thankful that she didn't need to say it. "I just want to know who is going to be involved in the investigation, and if I can help at all with anything. They were my best friends, Kingsley," she said pleadingly.

He studied her for a moment, then straightened his robes as he said, "We have assigned Aurors to this mission already; I was going to ask your husband tonight if he wanted to be involved in the investigation. Other Aurors will be Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Ernie Macmillian –"

"But do I have a chance at helping in any way?" asked Hermione impatiently. "I may not be an Auror, but I'm quite good at logic, and I can figure things out if you give me enough clues!"

Kingsley was watching her with curiosity, making her feel slightly uncomfortable. He folded her hands and spoke in his deep voice:

"I do not forget what you did ten years ago, Miss Granger." Hermione acknowledged that he addressed her by her maiden name. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley both informed me that it was you who came up with the planning when you left school to find Voldemort's horcruxes. They told me if it wasn't for you, they would've been dead on the first day of the hunt.

"I know you have power, Miss Granger. You are a very important part of the Golden Trio, and I know you would be very useful to the investigation."

"So, are you saying I can help–?"

"I can't allow you to come on the missions, given your current condition." He eyed her baby belly, and she understood. "But I can allow you to be involved in mental and logical part of the investigation."

The first true smile in a week spread across Hermione's face. "Thank you, Kingsley, it means so much to me. Shall I tell Ron that he will be a part of the missions?"

"Yes, I believe that would be necessary."

"Alright. Thank you, Kingsley." She smiled at him and turned her back to find Ron.

When the ceremony finally started, almost every person in the audience was sobbing. Ron, Hermione and Rose sat in the front row next to the Potter children, all who were quite solemn. In front of them, Harry's and Ginny's graves were already in the ground, both of them rather larger than the average grave, on account of their fame from the war.

Each of the Weasley brothers made their own speech about Harry and Ginny after the minister said a small introduction. George was the first to completely fall apart in front of the podium, and he was unable to finish. Teddy Lupin, though he was only ten years of age, still said a few words about his godfather and his wife. Molly and Arthur went next, bringing the crowd to more tears at Mrs. Weasley's stories of Harry and Ginny as young children.

Ron and Hermione were last. They hadn't prepared anything, being as distraught as they had been, but they still felt like they needed to say a few words.

They went up together, Ron's arm around Hermione's waist. They were silent until Hermione decided to be the one to speak up.

"Harry and Ginny were our best friends, as most of you know," she said, looking out at all the people in her life. "We grew up with them. We've had so many good memories with them, and…" she cut off and let out a soft sob, tears streaming down her face. She was extremely grateful when Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders and continued where she left off.

"We first met Harry on the Hogwarts Express. The three of us became best friends for the rest of our lives. Ginny soon came into the picture when she began to date Harry in our sixth year.

"The best memory that I have of us had to be the days in our sixth year, where the four of us just sat out by the lake on the weekends and laughed about stupid things." He smiled slightly, squeezing Hermione closer to his side. Then, he began to tell numerous stories of Harry and Ginny, times where they were angry, but mostly times where they were happy.

Hermione was thankful that Ron had decided to talk for her, but she suddenly felt guilty that she wasn't saying anything. When Ron was done with his own speech and he began to wrap it up, she said one last thing.

"We may have had our fallouts, but Harry and Ginny were my best friends and I'll always love them. I'm going to miss them more than anything, and Ron and I hope to raise their children the way they would've done." She was silent and there was a fair amount of applause from the audience as she completely broke down in Ron's arms.

When the funeral was over, Ron and Hermione left with Rose to their home in London. Before leaving, Hermione told Molly, "We're come over to the Burrow to pick up the children next week."

"You sure, dear?" asked Molly. "I'm sorry if I was pushing you when I spoke to Ron last night, I just wanted him to stop drinking –"

"No, it's alright," Hermione told her. "Ron's gotten rid of all the alcohol. I don't think that's going to be a problem anymore."

"Alright, dear," Molly's voice was hollow, but she forced a smile as she patted her cheek. Hermione squeezed her mother-in-law's hand and joined Ron and Rose as they Flooed home.

That night, Ron was sitting on the couch, reading the _Daily Prophet _with a miserable expression on his face. Hermione approached him from behind and gently took his head in her hands, kissing his forehead.

"What was that for?" he asked, though he looked rather pleased.

"I just thought I should thank you for being so brave for the both of us today," she said. "I know I haven't been much use –"

"Hermione, it's alright." She sat down next to him and he wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her gently. "We're going to get through this," he whispered in her ear. She shivered and for the first time since her friends' deaths, she believed him.


End file.
